Page 78 of The Groom Wore Plaid
She took a calming breath. “Let’s discuss the letter.”
He touched her arm again. “I had a strong reaction to it. I can only imagine how it was for you. You are a composed young woman to have handled that without running for help.”
“And what would that have done? I want whoever this is to think he’s cowed me, to think he’s succeeding. And besides, think ye I’ve not had terrible information before that I could share with few people?”
He only nodded, took another bite of bacon, and chewed before swallowing. “Is this the first open threat?”
“Aye, ’tis the first threatening me with serious harm, but there’ve been other issues that have demonstrated how upset this villain is.”
“Both fires and the talisman,” he said.
She nodded. “I’m assuming it’s the same person, although we can’t be certain right now. When we were up on the mountain leaving the standing stones and I fell? I’d already traveled that path three times, between accompanying Euphemia and you. Those rocks weren’t there before. They were placed right where we came over a crest in the path, and couldn’t see them without tripping over them.”
He slowly set down his knife. “Why did you not tell me this?”
“It seemed . . . foolish, and there was no way to prove I was correct. But now, with the letter, ’tis no longer just a few things to annoy me. I told ye about what I overheard Gregor say against me—which he’s done more than once, I believe.” She arched a brow.
“Yes, he did try to talk me out of marrying you. Do you think he’s the one who’s taken this so far?”
“He’s not the only one angry with me, but yesterday I confirmed that Martin Hepburn can’t read.”
“Ah, I wondered why you were talking to Nellie.”
“Ye’re not going to ask if I revealed too much?”
“I trust you.”
Stunned, she stared at him. It took everything in her not to refute that, because if he trusted her, he’d respect her fears about his death. But she had to admit, Owen had shown a small amount of trust: he hadn’t taken control of the investigation, told her not to worry about it and let a man handle it. Her brother probably would have, at least before his marriage to a strong woman.
“And there’s Gregor,” Maggie finally continued, “he’s not from here, not really. He’s spent most of his life in the colonies and only heard the stories of the feud. He hasn’t experienced the pain of needless death and destruction.”
“None of us have, at least between Duff and McCallum, since the marriage contract signed at Cat’s birth.”
“Then why would he want to resurrect that all over again?”
“I don’t know,” Owen mused. “And we can’t say for certain it’s him.”
“Nay, we cannot.”
He sat back in his chair and took a sip of his ale. “I must admit it’s hard for me to believe one of my own people would be so cruel to a woman. I fear what will happen if I don’t send you away.”
“Ye’re not sending me away. I’m not a coward, Owen, and I won’t be coddled.”
“So you’re saying you refuse to back down before this villain and you’ll marry me regardless?”
“I’ll make sure the contract is satisfied in some manner.”
He frowned and spoke coldly. “You’re not marrying a cousin of mine. If you’re carrying my child—”
“I thought we agreed not to bring that up!”
As if his words had power, she remembered again his naked body on her, in her, the way he set her afire, the way he could make her moan. She kept her gaze on her plate until her thoughts were under control.
“What if I question Kathleen again?” she asked.
She glanced up at him, only to find him gazing pointedly at her cleavage. She cleared her throat.
He looked up and blinked several times. “Forgive me, what did you say?”
